


It’s Me

by imburningtheletters



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Violence, Police Lieutenant Spot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-15 01:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19285516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imburningtheletters/pseuds/imburningtheletters
Summary: Darkness. That’s all he could see, the coarse fabric of the blindfold digging into his eyes. Cold handcuffs wrapped around a pole, holding him in place.Racetrack Higgins was into some serious trouble.





	It’s Me

Darkness. That’s all he could see, the coarse fabric of the blindfold digging into his eyes. Cold handcuffs wrapped around a pole, holding him in place.

Racetrack Higgins was into some serious trouble. His body was bruised and bloody, his stomach empty and his throat dry. He didn’t know how long he had been there, but it was long enough to make the small supply of food and water dizzying. 

He thinks he was brought here to target Spot. His lieutenant husband has put many people behind bars, along with a target on his back. Race hasn’t figured out which con took him. 

Race had grown accustomed to the routine at this place, wherever it was. The door opens quietly, food and water is brought in. The door slams open, pain is coming. 

So, it’s understandable when he whimpers as the heavy door slams open. He hold his breath as footsteps sound across the room, slowly coming towards him. He gasps when he hears a voice say “Racer, I’m here. I got you.” 

It can’t be real, he thinks. There’s no way Spot has found him. 

A hand touches his arm and he screams, flinching back. He has long given up on holding in his screams. The voice comes back, steady, saying “I’m just going to take your blindfold off.”

Despite knowing it’s coming, Race still flinched when hands touch his head. The blindfold comes off and Race still can’t see. He blinks frantically as the darkness clears, slowly revealing Spot’s face. 

He sobs, collapsing forward into his husband’s chest. Arms wrap around him, unlocking the handcuffs before rubbing his back. Spot’s deep voice keeps repeating a mantra, “Hey, it’s me, it’s just me,” over and over. 

Race slowly calms down, breath hitching with the last echoes of his sobs. Spot slowly moves back, wiping Race’s face before leaning in. The gentle kiss placed on his lips almost makes Race start crying again. 

Spot pulls away and starts to stand up, taking Race with him. When Race tries to take a step his knee buckles, legs screaming with pain. He cries out as Spot catches him, sweeping Race up into his arms. 

Race is carried out of the room and the building, strapped into an ambulance and taken to a hospital. He stays there for two nights before he is allowed to go home. 

He rebuilds his life slowly, one day at a time. It’s not easy. Slamming doors make him flinch and curl up to protect himself. Unexpected touches do the same. He can’t stand the dark. 

Spot stays by his time the whole time, expect when he is called into work. Then, one of his many friends takes his place. They always sit far enough away to avoid accidental touches, something Race appreciates greatly. They make him food, clean the house. 

The only person Race trusts completely is Spot. Spot, who doesn’t mind sleeping with a light turned on. Who doesn’t touch him without a warning, without gentle hands. 

Race was broken. But Spot fixed him.


End file.
